


Twisted Ties

by roguetimebot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Humor, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Implied Ruby/Sam Winchester, Jo Harvelle & Ruby Friendship, Jo Lives, No Apocalypse, Ruby (Katie Cassidy), the major character death warning probably isn't referring to who you're worried about it being
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:11:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7342321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguetimebot/pseuds/roguetimebot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jo was a little skeptical of the consequences she would suffer when a mysterious woman helped prevent her death, but why is almost everyone, even Dean, so resentful towards her now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Deal

Jo was beginning to think that maybe she'd made a mistake.

When she'd passed out from blood loss, too weak to even tell her mom she loved her, she'd been accepting of the fact that she would die.

But here she was, fixed, new and improved. But she felt sick inside, like her guts actually would spill out of her body this time.

She wasn't sure whether or not you were supposed to dream when you were passed out, or if that was the work of the creature that made the deal with her.

"Oh, sweetie," he'd pouted in mock sympathy. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you talking about?" she'd spat in reply.

"Look at yourself."

Jo had, and in her dream thing, she was just as bloody and torn up, the difference being she didn't feel the pain it was causing her back in the real world.

"We really got you good, didn't we?"

Jo was suddenly embarrassed that the forces of evil she'd spent so long overpowering had put her in this condition.

"It's a shame," the being in her dream had shaken his head at this. "He finally liked you."

"What?" she barked.

"Oh, you know, Dean. You spend all these years pining for him from afar, and he finally likes you. And now, he might never get a chance to love you."

Jo hung her head and tried not to let this affect her.

"But what if you had years to live? Years to see where this thing with Dean takes you?"

Jo had looked up absentmindedly and tried to push down the hope that had risen in her. "He only kissed me because I was dying."

"Maybe that's just what it took to help him realize he loved you. I mean, he has an impressive string of women in his life. Maybe you all bloody and dying is what it took to make you stand out from the pack."

Jo stared at the thing heavily. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"To sweeten the deal."

"What deal?"

This is what the thing was getting it. It was obvious in the way he straightened, like a villain finally able to reveal her motives to the ones he'd been stringing along. He crossed his arms tightly and slinked toward Jo, eyeballing her seriously.

"You can get your life back. At least for a while. And all I want is—"

"My soul," Jo finished for him. "Yeah, right. Get lost. How can a crossroads demon walk dreams?"

"Maybe I'm not a crossroads demon," he suggested.

Jo looked over the man. He looked human, long-ish hair, late thirties, and customary slimy attitude that most evil creatures with a grasp of the English language possessed. He looked like a crossroads demon, not that she'd ever seen one. But what else could he be?

"What are you, then?" Jo asked.

"Now, now. Where are your manners, Joanna?" the thing patronized. "What I am is of no import to you. What does matter is your answer. Do you want to live again?"

"I don't want to go to hell," Jo had proclaimed assuredly.

"I don't want that for you either, honey," the thing had assured her.

"You aren't planning to come for me in ten years and drag me to my doom?"

"No, honey, no," he said affectionately. "You can have your life back, and then never see me again."

"Well, you know what they say about things that seem too good to be true."

"You're a smart girl," he had nodded. "Don't worry, there's a kicker. I won't bring back your mom."

"What? Why?"

"That's another one of the things that's none of your business."

"No, don't think you can sign off my mom's death sentence and I'd just go along with it quietly. Make this deal with my mom instead."

"You think that's heroic, do you?" he had raised an eyebrow. "Do you think mommy dearest would like knowing that her darling daughter gave up her chance at life for her?"

"She doesn't have to know."

"Maybe not," he shrugged. "Too bad she's already dead."

" _Huh_?"

"Yup," he had stated matter-of-factly, no remorse in her voice. "She's gone. And I can't get her back. Now take it or leave it, honey."

Jo was not willing to accept that. "You can bring me back, can't you?"

"No, actually," he had revealed. "I can't bring people back from the dead."

"Aren't I . . . ?"

"No, sweetheart. But you're closing in. So you better hurry up and decide."

And, well, here she was.

She didn't know why she felt so sick about the situation. She thought she understood at first. She'd woken up in a pile of rubble, all put back together, like a miracle. No scars, no bruises, not even the ones she'd retained from the past, nor the ones from the explosion that should have killed her.

And then she'd looked to her right, and there were the remains of her mother.

That's why she felt so sick, she decided. That was at least one reason, wasn't it?

Without a mother's house to run to, she was walking towards the only other place of solace she could think of.

The Winchesters' house.

Well, Bobby's house. But she suspected the Winchester's would be there. If not, scouring every motel across the country didn't seem realistic, so she'd probably just stay with Bobby until she pulled herself together and could go hunting again. It's not like she had money for a motel for herself right now.

She'd been walking for a while. She could have hotwired a car, but stealing wasn't her thing. Besides, with death so potent and strikingly possible now, she felt like being a good girl.

Her feet were sore by the time Bobby's house was in sight. She didn't know when she'd developed the limp she was now sporting.

A black Impala was in the driveway. The Winchesters were there.

Jo hadn't been nervous about dropping in. I mean, Sam and Dean hadn't exactly seemed happy at the prospect of her dying, of voluntarily exploding herself to save herself from what was chasing her.

_What if those weren't hounds?_

The thought suddenly sprung to her mind, as if unbidden. I mean, they were invisible. What if those weren't hounds? She couldn't see them, after all. What if they were just there to put her in that position, the position to make a deal?

Get over yourself, Jo thought to herself. That mission was not all about her. That mission was to fight some big, strong evil thing that any old hunt would have brought about.

Jo shook the thought away as she approached the porch. Nervousness started to well up inside her, but she shoved it away before it became too notable. They would be happy to see her, she assured herself. She knocked on the door assuredly, three times, even intervals between the raps.

She waited for several seconds. After about a minute passed, she knocked again, three times, with shorter intervals of separation.

She didn't think much of it. Of course they'd be skeptical of opening the door.

Jo wasn't going to give up. She continued waiting.

After about two minutes of waiting and knocking and waiting and knocking, the door swung open. It wasn't hesitant, more like whoever opening it was ripping off the metaphorical band-aid.

It was Dean.

He looked older already, like the time without her had aged him, and that possibility brought a smile to her face. (So maybe she was still pining. Old habits die hard.) He was in a three-fourths sleeve tan shirt and jeans, and it looked good on him.

His eyes widened slightly when he saw her, and lips parting, not as if to say something, just because whatever was holding his lips together seemed to be dissolved with her appearances.

"Hey, Dean," she chuckled weakly. A whole string of emotions was set off when she saw him again, after believing she wouldn't ever again, not in this life. She didn't bother making sense of them now. She was too busy anxiously awaiting his response, what he'd do first when he found words.

"Jo?" he asked, voice emotionless, indiscernible.

"Yeah, it's me," she confirmed, her smile spreading through her features.

And then Dean promptly shut the door in her face.


	2. Welcoming Committee

Jo knocked again, pointedly and little annoyed.

Dean opened the door again, his expression hard.

"Well, I see I've missed welcoming committee," Jo frowned.

"What do you want, Jo?" Dean barked at her.

Jo nearly cringed at his tone. "I wanted a 'Hey, Jo' or a 'Nice to see you alive and kicking, Jo' or a swift attack because you doubt my ability to be alive right now."

Dean didn't respond.

"Aren't you . . . do you believe it's really me?" Jo questioned.

"I don't really care," Dean told her.

"And . . . and why's that?" she asked, hiding her hurt.

"Who is it?" someone called from farther inside. Jo recognized the voice immediately, and the heavy footsteps that implied that something relatively moose-sized was trudging about.

Sam appeared beside Dean, and at the sight of her, his features went slack. Jo waiting anxiously for his expression to change, for him to get past the initial surprise of seeing her. Would he regard her with warmth or the same bitterness Dean was inexplicably harboring?

It was more of the latter.

"Jo," he said grimly.

"What is up with you guys?" Jo exclaimed. "Should there be a gun pointed at my chest or something?"

"That can be arranged," Dean offered up.

"What?" Jo scoffed. "Are you two okay?"

"We're fine," Dean told her. "We just have a sort of contempt for people we don't like."

"You don't like me?" Dean raised her eyebrows, gaining great quantities of attitude. "That's great, Dean. Is that what you were thinking when you kissed me?"

Dean stiffened, as if the memory was dreadful to him.

"That was a mistake," he told her. "Besides, you were dying. Is a little pity such a bad thing?"

"Wait, I have a question," Sam cut in. A little hope welled up inside Jo. "If you're alive, is Ellen . . . ?"

Jo's attitude and snark drained. "No . . . no, she's gone."

Suspicion suddenly took its place in Dean's features alongside what seemed like pure hate. His face was crowded with negativity. "And you're looking nice and pretty," Dean pointed out.

A smidge of her attitude made an appearance. "You think I'm pretty, hun?"

Dean knitted his brow. "Shut up." It was as if the thought repulsed him.

"I didn't kill my own mom, if that's what you're implying," Jo told them.

"But somehow you're still walking and noticeably less bloody then how we left you," Sam pointed out.

"I know. I know, I . . ." she trailed off.

"She made a deal," Dean sighed, as if the thought were more shameful than killing ones' own mother, as he hadn't done that exact thing in his own lifetime. "A crossroads deal."

"No, no, not exactly. I . . ." she stopped.

The deal. The deal with whatever she'd encountered.

There _was_ a catch. It _was_ too good to be true.

"Guys, listen to me," she began intensely. "There's something wrong here."

"The fact that you're breathing and Ellen isn't?" Dean suggested.

"No! I made a deal, Dean. But not a crossroads deal. Something else came to me. Something that can enter peoples' unconscious minds. I think it messed with you guys."

"Oh, so we've done something wrong? We've wronged you somehow?" Sam scowled.

"No! I mean, well, yes, you did assault me and tie me to a post that one time."

"That was Meg, actually," Sam pointed out unapologetically, "but it's not like you didn't deserve it."

Jo was shocked. Sam was the nice one.

"What do you guys remember about me?" she asked urgently.

"That you're super uncool and are not allowed to sit at my lunch table," Dean replied.

"I mean specific memories."

"Um," Sam began, "one time you tried to exorcise a demon out of me. And there was no demon inside of me."

"Sounds like her," Dean nodded.

"What do you remember, Dean?" Jo asked.

"You've held a rifle to my back, you've tailed me on dangerous missions against your mother's wishes, you've been the bait to lure me to shoot my own brother, and you tortured him because you thought there was a demon in him. Shall I go on?"

" _You_ thought there was a demon in _me_!" she protested.

"Well, have you met Sam? He's a golden retriever," Dean said, gesturing towards his brother. "You, on the other hand . . ."

"Listen to me," Jo went on urgently. "I made a deal with . . . with something, I'm not sure what. And it healed me. But I think she messed something up."

"Are you expecting sympathy from us?"

"I didn't expect _this_ ," she said. "Look, we're supposed to be friends, at least. I think the monster made you hate me."

"I think that had more to do with your personality and overall lack of appeal," Dean chimed in with an innocent smile.

Jo held up her hand. "Okay, can you cool it with the jabs, Don Rickles?" Pining or not, Dean was masterful at being irritating. "Look, you don't actually hate me. I'm not sure what's going on right now."

"Sammy, do you believe this extremely improbable and unconvincingly delivered story?" Dean asked.

"Nope," Sam replied shortly.

"Aww, Sam, I thought you were the smart one."

Jo didn't say that.

"Was that . . . ?" Sam trailed off.

The tap of her boot heel was heard more potently with the strut the wearer was putting in her steps.

"Hey, boys," she greeted, a hint of a smirk on her lips almost imperceptible under what seemed like irritation.

Sam wouldn't seem to stop staring. As greeting, he breathed a single name.

"Ruby?"


	3. Ruby's Return

The porch was crowded with blondes and the entryway was crowded with Winchester. Each team stared the other team down, but each stare was subtly different.

Sam's stare was shock, and there was no better word to describe it.

Dean's stare was spiteful, shifting between the members of Team Blonde.

Jo's was the most confused of the bunch, her gaze shifting to a new person every few seconds, sometimes her own team member, hoping one of the expression would tell her what was going on.

Ruby, the newest arrival and currently in competition for most shocking, merely crossed her arms, leaned on one hip, and stared down Team Winchester with an amused half-smile, as if they'd done something petty to her that they wrongly thought they could get away with, like yanking on her pigtails.

"Sam," Ruby grinned. "I might say you've grown, but honestly, I stopped keeping track around six-foot-two."

"You get off my porch," Dean demanded roughly.

"Calm down, honey," Ruby scrunched her eyebrows. "That's no way to treat a lady, especially after what I've been through to track you worms down again. You guys are like extremely tall needles in an earth-sized haystack."

"Well, I don't consider you a lady as much as I see you as a conniving waste of space," Dean told her with a forced smile.

Jo was startled at Dean's behavior. She'd never seen him so hateful. She desperately hoped it was the creature's doing or that the new arrival was pure evil.

"Wait, what is it that you've been through?" Sam asked curiously.

"Does it matter?" Dean scoffed. "We're not going through what she's put _us_ through again."

"How exactly have a wronged you, Dean?" Ruby asked.

"That's my question, too," Jo chimed in briefly.

"And, like before, I have an answer," Dean began. "You got my brother to go all vampire wannabe on us, trained him to use dark forces, and, consequently, he's no longer as sweet as he used to be."

"I'm not?"

"There's a bit more baggage dragging you down, but that's understandable."

"You guys want me to get the couples counselor or are you going to listen?" Ruby interrupted.

"Oh, please continue," Dean offered sardonically. "Please let us know what new lie you've cooked up for us on this evening's episode of The Ruby Show."

The jab seemed to roll right of Ruby's back and she went on.

"That thing riding the comatose chick with the dark hair? That wasn't me."

"No?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Nope. It pretended to be to play you. Someone knew you would be able to trust me because in our allotted time together, you'd gotten kind of attached to me." She looked pointedly at Dean. "Both of you."

Dean straightened up and his expression hardened. "Okay, are you honestly trying to say—"

She held up a hand to silence him. "Relax, I'm kidding. Just wanted to see how you'd react. Honestly, I'm offended. But the Sam part's true. He actually did trust me to some degree, and thing riding the coma girl knew that."

Dean glared at Sam, who avoided his gaze.

"That spiteful glare at brother dearest. Can I take that as you believing me?"

"There are still plenty of holes in your story, Wifeswap," Dean said.

"Name them."

"Where have you been if that wasn't you?" Sam inquired.

"Well, Lillith took this body from me back when she tried to kill Dean, but it's like she just shoved me aside. She didn't send me anywhere. After there was that whole throw-down, after you guys had left, I just sort-of took control again. Thanks for not even cleaning up my body, by the way. You guys are sweethearts."

"And where have you been since?" Sam prodded.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said.

"Well, then not much would change, would it?" Dean pointed out.

She pursed her lips at him. "Fine." She hesitated before she said, "I've been hunting."

"Hunting?" Sam and Dean exclaimed simultaneously.

"Yep. Vampires, werewolves, you name it. If there's a romance novel about it, I've probably slaughtered it skillfully. Or sloppily. Whatever I had time for."

"And why have you taken a break from being a superhero to tell us about it on Bobby's porch?" Dean pressed.

"Because I missed you," she shrugged innocently with an exaggerated pout.

Dean cocked his head to the side doubtfully.

Ruby chortled. "Since I'm supposed to be in the league of evil, I'm kind of in tune to what they're planning. I heard that this one," she jabbed a thumb at Jo, "is slated as weapon against," she extended her index and middle finger, "you two dunderheads."

"No surprises there," Dean sighed.

"What?" Jo shrieked. "Do you honestly think I'd ever do anything to hurt them, then you don't—"

"You're not doing it on purpose, Nobel Peace Prize," Ruby droned. Jo's head was beginning to spin with all of Ruby and Dean's degrading nicknames. "Look, I'm not exact on the details, but what I know is that this girl supposed to be utilized against" she cocked her head toward the boys, "you guys."

"Well, I have a solution," Dean offered. "I kick you two off this porch and you go on your merry way."

"Is that really smart, Dean?" Ruby asked.

"It's efficient."

"And dumb. I don't know what the baddies are planning right now, but sending Peace Prize away leaves her unprotected and open to being swept up by the bad guys and used for whatever they're plotting."

"So what? Are you suggesting we set up a room for her and make her feel at home?" Dean asked.

"A-plus, Einstein," Ruby nodded, pulling out another nickname. "Maybe Sam isn't the smart one after all."

"The problem being we don't exactly like Jo," Sam reminded her.

"Dean's right. You really _aren't_ sweet anymore," Ruby raised an eyebrow. "Now why is it that you don't like this pretty little thing?" When Dean opened his mouth, she added, "And please, ten seconds without a single smart-mouthed notion from anyone but me."

Dean crossed his arms resentfully.

"Let's take a quiz. When was it take you started not liking Jo?"

Sam and Dean, reluctantly, actually thought about the answer. When they came to an answer, they decided they didn't like it, and thought harder. But they couldn't find a decent reply.

"You don't know, do you?" Ruby noted, knowing them all too well. "It's because you don't hate Jo. Well, you're not supposed to. That's the work of the naughties that want to bring an end to the consistently annoying Winchester line."

"They madeus _think_ we hate Jo?" Sam asked.

"From my understanding, that's exactly what happened."

The group pondered that for a moment as Jo mentally kicked herself. _Don't make deals with evil things, Jo_ , she reprimanded herself. _You'd think that'd be obvious. Do we need to go over the house rules again? What would your mother say?_

Thinking of her mom, sadness bloomed within her. Like many of the things she'd felt tonight, she shoved it aside in light of the relevancy of the situation at hand and/or more prominent thing she was feeling presently. She pushed every negative feeling that came at her to the recesses of her mind and waited for someone to say something.

Dean spoke after a while. "Planted or not, it still feels like real hate, and there's evidence to back up why I hate her. May I tell you the rifle-at-my-back story?"

He pointed at Jo as he said this, sort of absentmindedly, but it felt like he'd shot her. Dean not being infatuated with her every move? She could accept that. But hate? That hurt.

"Hate is rarely justified, Dean," Ruby shook her head. "It's not a healthy emotion, and people stumble onto it for petty things. You can hate anyone if you emphasized the right memories."

"Did you join some monks while you were gone?" Dean mocked.

Ruby sighed deeply, fed up. "Just," she grabbed one of Jo's arms and thrust her towards the boys, who jumped back as she neared them as if she were infected, "hole up Peace Prize, here, and make sure no bad guys get to her. And don't let her get in between you. I think the goal is to turn you two against each other and then come in for the kill."

"Don't worry," Dean assured her. "We're on a united front of vehement dislike toward Peace Prize."

Ruby sighed again. "It's a start."

Jo looked up at Sam and Dean, still cringing from her. Yes, this hurt terribly, but she had a reputation of hardcore-ness to maintain.

She arched her back, rolled her neck, and found her personality again. "Thanks, boys," she chimed. "Don't hog the TV, okay? My show is on Fridays at nine."

Sam and Dean were exchanging regretful looks when they heard the thwack of a high-heeled boot cross the threshold.

Dean held a hand up in front of Ruby. "Whoa, sister, you aren't invited to the slumber party unless there is a pillow fight on the schedule," he said. "You know what, scratch that, you're not invited at all."

"It would be smart to have me around, Dean," Ruby explained. "I'm an unbiased third party who isn't hating on Peace Prize. I can help keep her from coming between you two, help fight off baddies, and make sure you don't kill her in cold blood."

"That's awful kind of you, but no thanks," Dean rejected . "We've got Bobby to help with all that stuff. He hasn't been sippin' on Haterade, has he? Bobby's an adequate unbiased third party, but thank you for the offer."

"Hey, who was at the door?"

As if on cue, Bobby rolled in on his wheelchair at that moment. Catching sight of Jo, he froze.

"Ugh," he scoffed at her, then promptly spun around and rolled out of the room.

Dean's face fell and he didn't turn to see Ruby's broad, triumphant grin.

"Hey, Peace Prize!" she called, still drinking up her small victory. "I call top bunk."


	4. Contemptible, Honey

Neither Sam, Dean, Jo, Ruby, or Bobby had slept since the girls' arrivals. Jo and Ruby had arrived just before the sun came up and no one had bothered trying to go back to sleep.

Jo busied herself in the kitchen, thinking that making breakfast for everyone would prove she was worthy of trust. She didn't mind it, but she was mildly unsettled about the gender role she was filling. At least she wasn't making sandwiches.

The kitchen had an open archway to the Podunk little living room where Sam, Dean, and Ruby were currently tolerating each other. She could hear everything they were saying.

"I don't like this," Dean repeated for the umpteenth time. He was cramming himself as far the right as he could manage on the couch trying to distance himself from Ruby.

"We know, champ," Ruby sighed, flipping TV channels lazily. "And you don't like us, this is a huge mistake, blah blah, blonde joke, blah. We get it."

"I haven't strangled Jo. I think I can keep that up for the rest of my life. Especially with The Conscious Kid around."

Sam, who was cleaning his gun, frowned up at his brother.

"That's not the only reason we're here," Ruby told him. "One, it's safest to keep the girl here. I already explained that, Dean. I thought your listening skills were you most attractive feature."

"Actually, I like to think it's my pleasant smile or tortured past."

Ruby rolled her eyes and bit her lip. "Two, the thing coming after you guys is trying to separate you first and then strike. That means all of you. The thing is not just anti-Winchester. It's anti-hunter. If you can take out Jo and each other, then so be it."

"How is putting us in the same house going to help us not turn against each other?" Dean asked.

"One of you is probably going to stop hating her once it sinks in that you're not supposed to. I would think The Conscious Kid over there."

Sam glared. "Don't bet on it."

"That's the hate talking, Sam," Ruby assured him. "You're actually quite charming."

"Why do you have to be here, again?" Dean asked.

"Well, you're right about something. Housing you all up together might actually prove counterproductive. I'm keeping the peace."

"Let's not get started on the irony of that."

"Whoever was with you the last few months, Dean, it wasn't me," Ruby snapped.

"Oh, of course not. You've been _hunting._ Fighting the _good fight_."

"Are you ever going to accept me as a decent human being?"

"You're not even a human being."

"Could you two not fight, please?" Sam requested.

"Sammy, really, if you start trusting this woman _one more time,_ do not put it past me to chop off one of your limbs."

"I'm not the one you should be worried about," Ruby glowered.

"Oh, right. The _thing_. The _thing_ is what we should be concerned about. Meerkats could start colonies in the holes your story has left to fill."

"Meerkats? That's disappointingly random, Dean. Your humor has suffered without me," Ruby shook her head. "Should Bobby being looking into my story? He's your encyclopedia, isn't he?"

"Would it hurt you to respect your elders?" The creaking of wheels against the rickety would floors signaled Bobby's arrival.

"Holding in all her smart mouth comments?" Dean said. "She might actually pull something."

"You're one to talk," Ruby spat.

"Where's Ellen's kid?" Bobby asked.

"Over here," Jo called. "I'm making breakfast."

"You using up our food supply?" Bobby frowned.

"What? I . . . I was just . . ."

"Wait, what'd you make?" Dean wondered aloud.

"Pancakes," Jo replied nervously.

"Well, there are worse crimes you could commit," Dean admitted with an annoying grin. "Bring one over."

Jo frowned as she wiped her hands with a paper towel. She didn't think much before she uttered, "Are your legs broken?"

There was heavy silence in the house. Dean turned on the couch to face her.

"What'd you say to me?"

" _Are your legs broken_?" she repeated defiantly.

"Lady, I've had a long week—" Dean started to say.

"Really, Dean?" Jo's voice rose, and attitude that not even Ruby could compete with painted her words. "Please tell me all about it. Wanna know about mine? I got all ripped up trying to save your life precious life, I woke up beside my mother's dead body, and I came here to find that some of my best friends thing I am the scum of this Earth. So, please. Please tell me why you're so terribly burdened that you can't stand up and get yourself a pancake that _I made_."

She threw down the paper towel and stalked into the living, passing all the people now staring at her, and stormed her way outside. The sunlight shocked her at first, but she kept walking.

Inside, Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Sam, unconsciously, also exchanged glances with Ruby. Dean noticed, though, and let out a deep sigh internally. Was he the only one who knew how to trust the right people?

After a hostile glare from Dean, there was a thick silence. After several seconds and much deliberation, Dean stood up and hesitantly meandered to the door Jo had just walked out if. After placing his hand on the knob a long while, he suddenly changed his mind about what he was going to do and scuttled back to where he was sitting.

Ruby scoffed. "Honestly, you people! Have you no decency?" she said, and then pushed up off the couch and made her way toward the front door herself, thrusting the remote at Dean's face before he swatted it into his lap in surprise.

Jo was sitting on the edge of porch, her head in her hands. She heard the door open behind her, but she didn't know what someone would want to say to her now.

"Hey, sweet pea," a feminine voice greeted her.

She spun her head around to see Ruby, leaning against the door frame, who seemed startled at the sight of it.

"That's weird. I thought you'd be crying."

"I don't cry easily," Jo said.

"That makes two of us," Ruby told her, "but the boys inside? By now, I think they could do it on command. They're regular crybabies."

"They didn't seem too torn up about me dying," she pointed out.

"Well, they mostly cry for each other," Ruby informed her. "It's unhealthy, really. But I think he was pretty torn up, considering you don't share DNA."

"How would you know?"

"They hate you a lot," Ruby answered simply, coming to sit herself down next to Jo.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Jo frowned.

"However much hate that the monster we're talking about injected into them, it seems like a massive dose," she explained. "Maybe that dose was so colossal because they loved you so much. As a friend, of course."

"Of course," Jo sighed, making sure her voice was sardonic enough to not imply anything about her feelings.

"Don't worry. It ain't that bad," Ruby comforted. "They don't like me very much either."

Jo looked up at her. "Yeah, why is that?" she asked curiously.

"Some girl tried to pretend to be me and messed with their lives," she elucidated. "That's one reason. And maybe the demon thing."

"Demon thing?" Jo scrunched her forehead.

"You didn't hear. I'm supposedly a demon."

Jo, who seconds ago when joined her on the porch, was under the impression that this woman might be her only friend for a while, was suddenly struck with the urge to slit her throat.

"Yeah, I know," Ruby sneered, seeing Jo's expression. "Look, I'm not proud."

"You said 'supposedly,'" Jo noted. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, I've been told I'm a demon, as punishment for the witchcraft I partook in. Let me tell you, magic is not as glamorous as Harry Potter makes it seem. It's evil. And, supposedly, I was turned into a demon as punishment."

"But . . .?"

"But I don't feel like a demon," she shrugged simply. "I have feelings and a conscious, and I've gone as far as to believe in God, but then again, when you shoot me with a gun, I don't die, and I'm in the form of whoever this chick I'm riding is."

"Maybe you're not a demon," Jo suggested.

"I wish. Maybe that way the Winchester boys would tolerate me more and not doubt my every motive," she sighed wistfully, leaning back on the porch and propping herself up on her elbows.

"How do you deal with that?" Jo asked. "Them hating you."

"I like to think they don't _hate_ me," Ruby clarified. "They merely resent me for what I am. Or, what I'm supposed to be."

"Well, how do you deal with that?"

"Looking for advice?" Ruby teased.

"Maybe I am."

Ruby chuckled. "Sarcasm. And lots and lots of snark."

"Aren't they the same thing?"

Ruby cocked her head up toward her. "You clearly lack experience."

"Hey! I have so much snark, I can make your head spin."

"That sounds like I challenge," Ruby responded, the corners of her mouth quirking.

Under normal circumstances, they would've just become friends, but in these circumstances, they weren't even sure of the species of one of them. It put a kink in the relationship. Instead of outright friendship, for now, they developed a mutual camaraderie, two blonde shock absorbers of Winchester spite who found some degree of solace on a porch that wasn't their own.

"By the way," Ruby began suddenly, "it's totally obvious that you're madly in love with Dean."

Jo sagged. "We were kind of having a moment there, Ruby."

"You probably want to have lots of moments. With Dean."

"Oh, so this is why they hate you."

"Contempt, honey. Merely contempt," she clarified. "And if it makes you feel any better, he was almost the one out here comforting you."

"Really?" Jo asked hopefully.

" _Ha_! You _are_ in love with him!"

Jo rolled her eyes. "You're unbelievable."

"Contemptible, honey. Merely contemptible."

They smiled to themselves.


	5. Romantic Tension

Things weren't what the gang would call normal. But normal or not, there were still people out there who were in danger. The hero complexes in the household did not rest due to the uncomfortable living situation. The group went over the details of a nearby case with the wheelchair-bound uncle of the bunch before heading out. They were crowded around the desk in the study, Bobby with his legs wheeled beneath it like how it was supposed to be sat at, the Winchesters across from him with their arms crossed stoically, Ruby sitting on one corner, and Jo leaning on her hands on the opposite edge.

"Vampire witches?" Sam repeated. "Is that even possible?"

"I see no reason why not," Bobby replied. "Ain't no reason I can see why a vampire can't dabble in a little more evil than they already are."

"Is that possible, Ruby?" Sam asked.

Dean glared at him.

He turned up one hand at his expression, as if it was ridiculous that he should be upset. "She was a witch! She could know."

"There are more reliable sources," Dean pointed out.

"It's possible," Ruby replied, ignoring him.

Bobby spoke again. "The biggest thing that differentiates humans and vampires is the whole bloodlust kink. I don't see why that could stop someone from partaking in evil arts, especially without a conscious to begin with."

"Do vampires have consciousness?" Sam asked.

"Hard to say," Bubby shrugged.

"Of course they don't," Dean said. "That's what makes a human."

"Not all humans have a proper conscious," Jo pointed out, daring to look him in the face for the first time all day. "What about serial killers who get a kick out of doing bad things?"

"I have a conscious," Ruby put out there, holding up a finger to call attention to her, "and I'm not human."

"Yeah, but who knows what you are," Jo smirked slightly.

"What, besides a liar?" Dean asked, still making eye contact with Jo.

"Can we keep the peace, please?" she requested, not breaking the gaze.

"Hey, sweetheart, don't talk like you own the place."

"What? Is wanting everyone to get along a crime now?"

"You should've thought of that before you waltzed into this house."

"Where else was I supposed to go?" she challenged.

"Not my problem, baby."

"If I hadn't made a deal and that creature hadn't done its thing, you would've been elated to see me show up your doorstep!"

"I find that hard to believe," Dean responded, keeping his voice at normal volume, but more attitude coming out with every syllable.

"And I find you unbelievable!" Jo shot back. "How could you let hate just consume you like this? How could—"

"Guys?" Sam cut in hesitantly. "Can we do this later?"

"Tell that to her," Dean gestured his head in Jo's direction.

"You're serious?" Jo exclaimed, eyebrows shooting upward. "You seriously think I started this?"

"You know what I seriously think?" Ruby chimed in, obviously annoyed, and she continued before Dean could pronounce how much he didn't actually care. "I think we should all stow away our precious little feelings and go tear up a nest of Harry Vampotters. Who's with me?"

"Yeah, let's go," Sam agreed as Dean and Jo finally broke their gazes away from each other. It was as if they'd let out a breath they weren't aware they were holding in. "You coming, Bobby?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure this lair has a handicapped ramp," Bobby responded flatly, rolling backwards in his wheelchair for emphasis.

"Okay, so Bobby's out," Dean noted.

"You coming, Ruby?" Sam asked.

"What? No! No, she's not!" Dean cried.

"Sure I am," Ruby contradicted, hopping lightly off the table. "I kill a _mean_ vampire."

"Yes, I'm sure your skill set is fabulous, but—"

"Please, don't try and talk me out of this, Dean," she told him. "I'm a former witch. I know how their minds work."

"Somehow, that doesn't comfort me."

Ruby crossed her arms and stared him down.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine! But for your experience, not because I like you at all."

"Thanks, babe," Ruby sneered. "Come on, Peace Prize. Let's go decapitate us some evil things."

As Jo was dreading the fact that the nickname might stick, Dean, expectedly, chimed in with his disapproval.

"What? No. This one stays."

"You ever notice how often you disapprove of the right decisions?" Ruby, without looking back at him, asked Bobby, "How big is this lair again Bobby?"

"About forty vamps, as far as I can tell," he replied.

"Forty," Ruby repeated. "That's about ten for each of us if we all go, and even that could prove a challenge, especially with their dark forces gunning for us. So Jo goes."

Jo started slightly at the sound of her name. It was the first time Ruby had used it as opposed to "sweetheart" or "Peace Prize." Something told her she should relish to moment.

Dean pursed his lips. He knew she was right, but he had admitted she was right too much for one day.

Now, Sam was there to do it for him. "She's right," Sam told him ironically.

"Whatever," Dean grumbled before he trudged toward the door.

"Shotgun!" Ruby jeered cheerily after him

" _No!"_

She giggled.

* * *

Dean drove the Impala and Sam was in the passenger seat. Ruby was in the seat behind Dean and would frequently kick his chair "accidentally" or move her hand slowly in his peripheral vision as to distract him for his driving. ( _Ruby, I'm trying to watch the road! Is this another plot to kill us? – This is for not giving me shotgun! And I never tried to kill you!)_ Jo was behind Sam, so she could see Dean's side. They could make eye contact if he turned his head a fraction.

"Ugh, what is this music?" Ruby groaned.

"Brilliant, that's what," Dean snapped back at her.

"This is your idea of brilliant? It's a train wreck."

"Yeah, if train wrecks were _brilliant_."

Jo wasn't paying too close attention to their bickering. She was too consumed by her own thoughts.

Ruby had opted for her to be brought along on the vamp hunt, which she appreciated. She was glad that Dean had even allowed her to, even though she seriously didn't rely on his permission. But no one had asked her if she wanted to. She was a hunter. This is what she did.

Usually, she was eager to hunt, even fearless about it. Hunting had never made her nervous, but now she was on edge? She thought it might have something to do with her near-death experience, but in a hunting lifestyle, one had plenty of those.

It was probably her mom, she realized. Seeing her mom victimized by the hunt had finally gotten through to her what her mom had been attempting to for years. Her mom so dead set against her hunting, even though she joined the party eventually, but that was solely to protect Jo. Being away from her daughter, not knowing if she was safe all day, every day, had nearly driven her inane, so she tracked Jo down, and they embraced hunting together. And Jo had often been irritated by the tagalong. She often wondered fleetingly how Sam and Dean handled this much family time. _I can take care of myself_! It wasn't true, of course. Forces were at work in her life to keep her safe, not just her own power, but she wanted her mom to realize how she was okay, that hunting didn't intimidate her.

But now it did. And what it took was killing off the person who wanted her to know that.

She would probably want to deal with her mom's death at some point. She kept shoving it aside for the issues at hand. She did so again now, but this time she didn't bother telling herself that this was the last time she would.

Suddenly, she realized someone was speaking to her.

"What?" she started, searching for who had spoken.

"You okay over there?" Ruby said, and her tone and the fact the Dean was glancing in her direction with a hint of either concern or curiosity hinted that she'd said this multiple times already.

"Wonderful," she replied dryly, putting a finger to her temple.

"Is it the car smell? I know. When was the last time they washed this thing, honestly?"

Dean looked slightly taken aback, as if the thought of washing the Impala was entirely new to him, as if his glorious car didn't just repel grime.

"I hadn't noticed," Jo replied honestly.

"Really? I find it disgusting."

"Well, feel free to hop out of it anytime, honey," Dean offered.

Ruby smiled to herself. It seemed giving Dean a hard time pleased her.

Suddenly, she leaned closer to Jo. "Seriously, are you okay?" she asked quietly.

Jo nodded, her hand still against her head. "Just a little anxious."

"Anxious?" Dean repeated. "You've been hunting plenty."

"She almost died last time, genius," Ruby snapped at him, "and her mom was taken out."

Jo didn't know how to feel about someone of some mystery species knowing her so well.

"And now you're scared?" Dean wondered aloud.

"No, I'm not scared," Jo reassured him honestly. "It's just . . ."

She looked around the vehicle, first the back of Sam's head, then the angle of Dean's face, then at Ruby. She decided she meant Ruby as well when she said, "I don't want anyone else I care about to die on my watch."

Dean didn't look at her. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and shifted in his seat. She could see Sam doing the Sam. An awkward moment might have descended on them if not for Ruby's convenient presence.

"You care about me?" she grinned her signature broad, sarcastic, exaggerated grin. "That's sweet of you. Maybe we can braid each other's hair later. Or braid Sam's hair." She reached her right arm out as if to start her work on Sam's thick hair immediately, and he swatted her hand away, trying not to chuckle. Ruby wasn't so ashamed and was a giggling madly, seeming to enjoy herself.

Admiration struck Jo. Ruby was so happy. She could live so easily even with being pelted by so much dislike. She lived her life not caring what others thought about who or what she was and didn't let it stop her from trying to establish relationships or improve someone else's life who wouldn't even thank her for it.

As that thought struck Jo, she quickly uttered, "Thank you."

"Me?" Ruby pointed at herself. "For what?"

"Just…for not letting me feel alone. For sticking up for me."

It sounded like Jo was the playground nerd and Ruby was the uncharacteristically sweet football player who came to aid just as the bullies were about to swipe her glasses.

As reply, Ruby smiled, and not one of her overstated, satirical grins. This smile was genuine, an actual _you're welcome_.

Jo really hoped Ruby wasn't a demon, because she wasn't about to start looking up to one. _She's not_ , Jo decided firmly. _Not her._

And of course, she ruined the touching moment they were having with, "After we braid Sam's hair, we can girl chat about how in love with Dean you are."

The car swerved under Dean's steering control and the rider were flung two different ways before the car steadied. Ruby was cackling as it repositioned itself.

"Thanks for that," Jo grumbled through the strands of wavy hair that had been strewn across her face. She was actually kind of happy about that part, considering her face must have been inflamed.

"Another thank you? Geez, people really appreciate me today." Her sarcastic smile returned. "You Winchesters should try it."

Jo pushed her hair up and out of her face once her blushing had gone down. The first thing she noticed was Dean staring at her. She was going to analyze his expression, try and sort out what he was thinking or feeling, but after she swept her hand across her eyes to get some more hair out of the way, he was focused on the road again, expression hard and calculating, like his focus was on the case and that was that. But perhaps he was gripping the wheel a little tighter than before.

"And if that near-death experience we just had hints at anything, I think Dean might love you back."

With the next swerve the car took, it was a shock they weren't all tossed out the window, even with the seat belts.

"Shut up back there, Ruby," Dean snarled as the car steadied a second time.

"Maybe my whole hate theory was off after all," Ruby pressed, accompanied as usual by her smile, not believing her own words, but knowing they were provoking. "Maybe it was just suppressed love this whole time."

"Ruby, is this really the time?"

"There's always time for love."

" _Ruby_ , there is a knife in my boot."

"That won't kill me," she pointed out smugly. "Can we pull over for a minute? The romantic tension in here is making the car all stuffy."

Suddenly, Dean slammed on the brakes and the car thrust the riders forward. After they'd slammed back into their seats, Jo, with her less straightforward brand of sarcasm, said, "Dean, I think she was being facetious."

But blistering romantic tension wasn't what Dean had stopped the car for. He leaned down, snatched the pocket knife out of his boot, spun around in his seat, and thrust the blade in Ruby's thigh. Jo instinctively recoiled from the violent act, expecting a shriek of pain or flailing limbs. But, as should've been expected, Ruby just laughed some more.

"Get your emotions in check, Incredible Hulk," Ruby suggested, yanking the knife out from her thigh. "Save it for the magic vamps."

Dean glared at her for a few more moments, and then seized the knife back from Ruby's hand. He repositioned himself in his seat and they were driving again.

Ruby gave Jo a sideways look. Just low enough for her to hear, she muttered, "Oddly defensive, isn't he?"

Jo looked back at her with a hard expression. _Great_ , she thought. _More things to ponder during the road trip._

* * *

She didn't have to ponder things she didn't wish to for very long.

For a half hour or so, the car was pretty much silent except for Dean's classic rock soundtrack. The next words spoken were by Sam.

"This is it," he said.

They pulled up to an audacioius mansion with white paneling and an outrageous number of windows. They could have easily fit twenty Bobby houses into it.

"It doesn't seem like a den of evil," Sam noted.

"It seems pretty ideal, actually," Jo said, gazing up at it. "It's out of the way, so no nosy neighbors, but close enough to civilization to get new victims every once in a while, and you could easily fit a whole held of vamp witches into that thing. As long as they keep the bills paid, I doubt any normal person would suspect a thing."

"Nice deduction skills, Peace Prize," Ruby noted.

"Alright, then," Dean began. "Let's get the stuff out of the trunk and slay us so vamps."

The group clambored out of the car, and wound their way to crowd around the trunk full of weapons. Sam handed out scythes and machetes to the group.

"Okay, here's the plan," Sam began, turning from the trunk. They formed a circle around him to listen and ended up in an unintended huddle. "It's daylight, so they shouldn't know that we're here just yet. Two of us take the first floor, the other two take the second."

"Right," Dean agreed. "You girls better not run this whole mission to the ground."

"Dean," Sam said hesitantly, as if walkingon eggshells, "we're not on the same time."

"What? You can't honestly expect me to buddy up with one of these two," he waved his machete at the two girls.

"Were you listening in the car, Dean?" Sam asked. "Jo . . . she's not in tip-top hunting condition."

Dean and Ruby turned to examine her and she looked at the ground shamefully.

"Why is that my problem?" Dean wonder aloud.

"Because if she cracks during this case, we might not be able to handle the loss. There's basically a vamp army in there with magic working for them. There's probably also some victims we should usher out of there. We don't have much time to drag Jo out of there if she gets hurt."

"I don't need a babysitter," Jo said defiantly, but her uneasiness hadn't settled.

"It's precautionary, Jo," Sam assured her. "I may have been programmed to hate you, but I'm still me, and I don't want you to get hurt on my watch."

Jo couldn't do much to suppress her smile. So Sam hadn't changed much after all.

Dean started up again. "Why can't Ruby be on her team?"

"Do you trust Ruby now?"

"Oh, well, you have a point there," Dean gave him. "Why can't you look after Jo?"

"That would leave you on Ruby's team," Sam pointed out. "I think you'd kill each other before we got out of there."

"Oh, please," Ruby scoffed. "I could take him."

"Fine," Dean huffed. "Jo and I take the top floor."

Ruby gave a Jo and pointed look and smirked. Jo did her best to ignore it.


	6. Hunting Skills

Ruby skittered from the group, eager to be on the hunt. Any doubts about her story that she'd been hunting in her absence vanished. She was clearly stoked to be on the hunt. Sam, from his great height, seemed to be smiling after her as she scuttled away, much to Dean's chagrin. Jo was almost certain they'd survive this. Ruby was too dedicated and Sam was too large. (How did his skin contain all of him? His muscular body and his massive height? It was insane.) Her, on the other hand? Admittedly, she was the slightest bit unstable, but she wanted to look strong, show Dean she was someone worth trusting. Actually, she _was_ strong and she _could_ be trusted, but apparently a friendly and pleasant history wasn't enough to build a reputation these days.

"Ready, Jo?" Dean asked, slamming the trunk closed.

Jo's gaze flipped up to his. She relished the times he said her actual name as opposed to "her" or "them," like when he was referring to both her and Ruby. She had a similar reaction to when Ruby said her name, but this was different. With Ruby, she appreciated the replacement of patronizing nicknames. With Dean, it was a familiarity thing, like they were on their way to becoming friends again.

"Doesn't matter," she replied. "Let's go."

There mansion was in a forest, so it was easy to find a tree that was a decent distance from the window. The tree they decided was most useful was near the right wall of the house. It was rough, probably an oak, and had a good amount of branches up near the top by the window, but not many near the ground.

"Looks like I'm going to have to lift you up," Dean decided.

Jo looked up fondly at Dean. He still didn't like her, that was for sure, but he was putting that aside for the hunt. Other people's lives were at stake, and he was going to put aside his personal feelings to save some citizens. Even if it were Ruby in this situation with him, who he trusted about as much as he trusted politicians and vampires themselves, he might've stowed those feelings away if it meant saving lives.

"How will you get up there?" Jo asked.

"I hope you've been lifting your weights, honey," he responded. With that, he clasped his hands together and bent low to the ground. Taking the cue, Jo positioned her foot in the net formed by his finger and he thrust her body upwards. She was able to fling her arms around a supportive branch and, with same help from Dean, pulled herself up until she was straddling the branch.

"Alright, now help me up," he requested, waving his hands toward himself in a _come on_ motion.

This was the hard part. Jo flung her legs behind her so her stomach was on the branch and hooked her feet into some clumps of leaves to balance herself. Then, she stretched out her arms for Dean. He took them and dug his foot into the branch for leverage.

"Now, pull," he barked.

Jo obeyed and starting heaving, straining against Dean's weight. Her efforts were almost ineffective.

"Come on, Jo, this is the easy part," he grimaced against Jo's grip. "We haven't even started the actual case yet."

"I'm trying," she moaned, pulling harder, gripping tighter. He rose a few inches, but dropped back toward the earth again. Gripping even tighter, she started again. He went higher, and the pain in her arm increased.

"The goal's to lift me up, not squeeze my hands off."

Jo's muscles strained against gravity and Dean's wrist started to slip from her hands.

"Come on, Jo! You can do this." Dean encouraged gruffly.

But she didn't. With a snap, the tangled mass of branches and leaves holding her feet in place snapped and she went toppling forward. Dean, in turn, began tumbling backward, and he fell with a thud against the grass. Jo fell after him, and an _oof!_ escaped him as she hurtled onto him. Her chin collided with his, and her teeth rattled.

Dean rubbed his chin for a moment, and then brought his gaze up to hers. "Hunting extraordinaire, you are," he smirked.

"You said yourself we haven't started the case yet," she pointed out, the knife in her pocket biting against her hip, and probably Dean's as well. Good things her machete wouldn't fit in her front pocket. That could've left a mark.

"Well, if you couldn't—. " Dean stopped, and his light smile faded as he took in the situation of the situation and the extra-personal Jo-on-him contact that was taking place.

"Let's go find, Sam," he suggested gruffly at Jo's face, taking her shoulders and guiding her gently off of him.

Jo allowed herself to be ushered off of him. He was capable of shoving her off, but she didn't. That was something. She pushed herself off the ground, picked up Dean's fallen machete that he had forgotten to collect himself, and followed him toward the back entrance of the house where Sam and Ruby were supposed to be preparing themselves. Dean informed Sam of the situation, who to his credit, tried not to laugh.

The three of them made their way back to the tree, Ruby trailing behind them. Sam hoisted Jo up first, then, with a little more difficulty, launched Dean up to the treetops.

"Okay, here's the plan," Dean bellowed to the group. "Sam and Ruby stomp in first and start hacking away at as many vampire heads as you can see. Hopefully, the majority of them will rush to the back entrance to see what the fuss is about. After a while, Jo and I are to break through this window amidst all the chaos, kill any stragglers, gather any captives, and then come down and help with the hacking until everyone who gets a kick out of drinking blood in this place is headless. We got it?"

The group nodded in agreement, and Sam and Ruby started to head back to their post. Jo and Dean fixed their gazes on the window in front of them, blacked out to avoid the sun that bothered the vampires so much.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean suddenly called out to him after he was several yards away. Sam spun around, his thick brown hair swishing around his features as he did. Ruby, who had gone ahead of him, stopped and turned as well. "You be careful, okay?"

Sam nodded. "You too."

Jo was too far away to hear it, but she saw Ruby sneer and say something about that extremely touching exchange that made Sam "accidentally" ram his shoulder into her as he ran past.

"You be careful, too, okay?" Dean said.

Jo didn't respond for a moment, and then realized there weren't many other people Dean could have been referring to.

"Me?" Jo asked for reassurance.

"Yeah, who else?"

"I didn't think you cared about what happened to me so much," Jo said.

"Well, I don't want you bringing down the whole ambush," he explained weakly.

"Oh!" Jo suddenly cried. She held out Dean's machete. "You left this on the ground after I fell on top of you.

Dean took it gingerly. "Uh . . . thanks. I'm not sure why I didn't notice that."

Jo gave him a tight smile, and then turned her attention back to the window. She sighed deeply, trying to steady herself and put herself into the proper hunting headspace.

Dean noticed. He looked up at her a few times, but finally worked up enough nerve to say, "This broken state that you're in because of your mom's death? You can use it to your advantage."

"What?"

"Every negative emotion you're feelings right now: channel it and unleash on those things in there," he advised. "The anger, the hurt, the pain; release it all. Give it to them to deal with."

"Dean, I'm not as revenge-driven as you are," Jo shook her head, a little sadness in her voice at the rehashing of the feelings. "All the negativity I'm feeling is unwelcome. I'm not about to utilize it."

"It's for a good cause."

"And if it consumes me, then what?" Jo inquired. "I unleash all my anger in there, I could get used to it, start to embrace it. I might never deal with it."

"So what? Are you just gonna give up and let yourself get killed? Not that I'd mind so much, but still."

"No," Jo said. "I don't fight with feelings, Dean. I fight with skill and the desire to do good. I don't plan to use my negative emotions to my advantage. I plan to deal with them, and then continue honing my skills."

Dean raised his eyebrows contemplatively. "Interesting," he said.

"You should try it," Jo suggested.

"Wait, are you saying I'm not a skilled hunter?" Dean frowned.

"No, no! I mean, not letting your emotions rule you. The whole pseudo-hate thing you have towards me, for instance."

"As if I could control that."

"Didn't you hear Ruby this morning? Something about being able to hate anyone if you remember the right things. It's controllable."

"Yeah, as if I'm going to take life lessons from the likes of her," Dean said, gaze still fixed on the window.

"There's another example," Jo pointed out, shifting her gaze for a clearer view through all the leaves. "Your anger at that girl pretending to be Ruby is clouding your opinion of this Ruby."

"Can we talk about this later?" Dean demanded in a tone that implied that he did not want to talk about the misguidedness of his feelings ever at all. "I'm trying to listen for commotion."

Jo shrugged, then refocused on the window, listening intently.

"Oh, and one more thing," Dean added. "I know I'm supposed to look after you, but honestly, I don't actually care whether you survive this or not. I'm not here to babysit you. Don't look to me for help, you understand? _I don't care whether you live or die_."

Ouch. Way to put it gently.

"Fine," Jo replied tightly.

Soon enough, they faintly heard a distinct crashing sound. Sam had probably just kicked the door down.

"Alright, get ready," Dean said after a few minutes, enough time for the situation to be understand by the opposition. He crouched low on his branch. Jo braced herself as well, readjusting her grip on her scythe, her machete stuck precariously in the hip of her pants.

"On three," Dean began. "One . . ."

Crashes and commotion sounded front inside. Jo heard Sam grunt; from pain or exertion she couldn't be sure.

"Two . . ."

There was a great number of footsteps resounding from inside, stampeding downstairs, circling the floor in confusion. The amount made Jo uneasy, and she wasn't exactly ready for Dean to reach . . .

"Three!"

Jo reared back her scythe and smashed the blade through the window. She then crunched it against the glass still hanging from the edges of the hole, the launched herself threw the opening, holding her weapon far out to her right so it wouldn't harm her. She made it through the gap and landed on her stomach, with Dean landing beside her in a similar position shortly after. They pushed themselves off the ground and took a fighting stance, their weapons reared back.

There were about ten vampires still on the top floor, at least in the room they were in. The room was spacious with hardwood floors and some human bodies strewn about it. The stairs were visible at the end of the room, and half the vampires seemed about to descend them upon Dean and Jo's entrance. The rest were groggy and trying to fight off sleep.

"Come and get it, bloodsuckers!" Dean challenged, and many obliged.

The oldest-looking charged first, aiming for Dean, and was freed of his head all too easily. That's when they started to swarm.

The first one that came at Jo was a brunette that looked about her age. She raised her scythe across her chest, then swung. The brunette's head flew across the room.

Jo smiled to herself. She still had it in her.

She kicked the next comer in the chest first before bring the scythe to its neck. In the same motion, she stuck one in the temple. She was able to force it out, spin in over her head a couple times, and then bring it back around to take her third victim's head off.

Her grin broadened as she thought how happy her mother would be about this.

Things got harder after those first few kills. The vamps got smarter, started coming at her in organized group, started using the stupid magic of theirs. But for the most part, she kept them at bay.

At one point, after she ran out of vamps to slay, she looked to her right to find Dean caught in a chokehold several feet away from her. His teeth were inches away from Dean's neck. Jo quickly retrieved the machete from her pants, letting the scythe take its place there, and charged the monster. She couldn't get a good aim on his neck without taking off Dean's head as well, so she jammed the weapon into his forehead and twisted hard to the left. The force got the vampire off of Dean and it fell to the floor, grasping at the machete stuck in his brain. Dean barely took a moment to collect himself before he was kneeling beside the monster, bringing his own machete down to end its life. The head came off with a satisfying gushing sound.

Jo placed one knee on the now lifeless head to hold it down as she yanked the knife out, which got blood all over her jeans.

"Nice job," Dean complimented fleetingly as she stood.

"You, too," she replied just as briefly. "Let's grab any surviving humans and then go help Sam and Ruby."

"Hey, you're not the one giving orders here."

"Shut up," Jo snapped. "Let's go."

They turned to look for survivors, but stopped in their tracks.

More vampires must have come back upstairs, about half as much as were there originally, but still more than Dean and Jo would've liked to deal with.

"Go downstairs and look for humans, help Sam and Ruby, then take everyone back outside," Jo told Dean softly. "Let me handle these and meet you by the car. If I'm not out there in five minutes, leave without me." As if he needed to be told that.

Dean clearly resented taking suggestions for her, but he nodded nonetheless. "Okay. Fine."

Jo ran to one corner of the room as far away from Dean as she could manage and started knocking valuable, witchy-looking things over. The group responded to the provocation and they all charged after her. Dean was able to slip away unnoticed.

Jo took the scythe out of her pants, so she had a weapon in each hand. Two out of charged her, zigzagging in attempt to confuse her. However, they were of similar height, so Jo merely ducked slightly, swung her scythe through air. Both of their heads came off in the same rotation.

A pale redhead girl grabbed at Jo's arm, surprising her into dropping the scythe, and went in to bite it, her head bent low so she didn't have a clear shot at her neck. Jo thunked the back of her head with the machete, then pushed the pair of them to the ground beneath the damaged window. The vampire gasped in discomfort under the sunlight. In her distraction, Jo was able to straddle her stomach and slide her weapon across her neck.

Before she could take in that victory, two vampires each took one of her arms. She tried to spin the machete around in her hand so she could stab the right one in the stomach, but she dropped it in the effort.

 _Oh, no_ , she thought.

She strained and pulled against oppressors, tried to kick at them, but to no avail. They stood her up and spun her around to face another vampire blocking her view of the stairs. He had a shiny, black mustache, an equally black trench coat, and an arrogant demeanor.

"Stop struggling," he ordered with a menacing smile. "How dare you hunters charge in here and toy with my nurturing environment here."

"Oh, yeah," Jo spat. "The dead and dying bodies really set the mood."

"We all have different tastes," the vampire shrugged. "By the looks of that awful outfit you're wearing, you prefer grunge, quaintness, and familiarity, whereas I prefer Persian rugs, warm hues, and quick access to food when I so desire."

"So are you going to eat me or use my blood as paint for one of your warm-hued walls?" Jo said fiercely.

"Neither. I actually plan to kill you. Leaving a hunter alive in my own household, even for a short while, is so obviously unsafe."

Then, the vampire raised one hand and closed his eyes, as if focusing very precisely on something. A discomfort welled inside Jo that began in her stomach, then swelled to her chest. Her chest constricted and she suddenly found breathing difficult.

 _He's using magic on me_ , she realized, but she didn't let the terror flood her. Instead, she replaced it with determination and continued struggling against the vampires holding her.

It was just as effective as it was the first time. They maintained their grip. Jo's throat became tight. Her abdomen heaved.

She glared at the vamp-witch, but the look was lost on him. His eyes were closed, focused on killing her.

And, for the second time that week, Jo resigned herself into accepting her own death.

The pain in her chest increased so much she wanted to scream, but her lungs and throat wouldn't let the sound of her. This sent her body into frenzy. This time, when she flailed against oppressors, it was partly her fighting and partly unintended spasms.

Her vision fogged. Her body became limper, but she forced herself to keep looking up at the man trying to kill her. In case he opened his eyes, she wanted him to see her face when she died, wanted him to know that even if she accepted her death now, that didn't mean she was going to go down giving up.

She focused on his head. His head became foggier and foggier as time went by. In her now unreliable vision, it seemed to move around, multiply like an image in a kaleidoscope, and then come off completely.

Wait . . .

His head came off.

Like a splash of cold water, the pain fled Jo's body and she took in a massive gasp of air. The grips on her arms had loosened and she rammed her elbows back into their chests. She dove for her scythe with a new determination that gave her the quickness and edge to take their heads off within a few seconds.

She was breathing heavily as the heads fell around her, as if her lungs were swallowing every intake of breath with a new appreciation. She looked up at where her supposed-to-be murder once stood. Instead was his headless body in a heap on the floor. Behind that body stood a human one, arms still holding the machete across his body as if he just got done decapitating the vampire seconds ago.

Dean was breathing heavily too as he stared at Jo. His expression was almost confused, like he didn't know what he just did.

But Jo knew, and the thought confused her as well.

Did Dean just decide to save her life?


	7. Hiding Heads

Dean and Jo barreled down the stairs to aid Sam and Ruby, keeping a measured distance from each other. That was mostly Dean's doing. He seemed ashamed of what he'd done, which was preposterous, because it was quite an honorable thing to do.

But when they arrived downstairs, they saw Ruby standing amidst a heap of headless bodies, gripping her scythe, with Sam standing a ways behind her, almost still in the doorway, looking impressed.

"Whoa," Jo commented. "She really has been hunting."

"Yeah, no kidding," Sam chortled.

"All in a day's work," Ruby smiled, twirling her scythe at her side.

"Don't be smug," Dean said.

"Don't be ungrateful," Ruby shot back. "Come on, let's find survivors."

The gang started bending over bodies that still had heads. Sam was particularly good at this, speaking in soothing tones to the victims. He was a people person, that Sam. _Hey, hey, you alright? Come on, let's get you out of here. Let's get you home._

Dean was more forward and urgent. _Hey, get up (some degrading nickname relating to the victim's appearance.) We're getting out of here._

Ruby was a nice median of the two, being urgent, but still charismatically sweet. _Hey, you awake in there? Good news, my blood-spattered friend: You're being rescued. Now let's go._

Jo felt kind of lackluster as she dealt with her find.

As one man shifted around, eyes fluttering to look up at her, she simply uttered, "Hey. Wanna live, or . . .?"

"Aren't you a charmer," Ruby called, overhearing her.

"You just made a blonde joke to a girl that was hemorrhaging," Jo pointed out as she pulled the man to his feet.

"Yeah, so?"

"You're blonde, too."

"There was blood in her eyes. She might not have been able to tell."

Jo chortled. Gah, she loved Ruby. Provided that she wasn't a demon.

Speaking of people Jo may or may not love, Dean came up just then, supporting a weak-looking brunette whose shirt was drenched in blood nearly ripped to shreds. Of course he picked her.

"Okay, victims, in a circle," Dean called, and the group led their finds to a huddle. There were four surviving victims, two guys and two girls, all young and reasonably attractive. Jo was a little flattered that one had tried to kill her, even if it had more to do with the threat she posed. "Here's what's supposed to happen. If any of you knows your way home, tell Sam, and let him drive you there. You can trust us."

None of them seemed to question it.

"If there are any serious injuries and you want immediate treatment, then he can also drive you to the hospital."

No one seemed to need that. These were probably the people that the vampires wanted to turn instead of drain. Or train in sorcery. Or whatever.

"You'd let them get blood on the seats?" Sam asked quizzically.

Dean seemed to rethink his decision. "Their blood is dry for the most part," he decided. "It's okay."

"Me and the girls can stay here and dump the bodies and their detachable counterparts, remove evidence of our time here, and take all magic-looking objects somewhere where they can cause less harm," Dean explained.

Ruby and Jo didn't argue, not that they felt they would get any credit for that.

The group helped the victims to the Impala. Jo noticed Dean wincing as the filthy people made contact with his seats, but he got past it. Soon enough, Sam was performing taxi driver duty, heading off toward the horizon.

"Let's get started," Dean clapped in hands together, then turned and barreled past the girls into the house.

"And how come you can complain about taking orders?" Jo grumbled.

"I am the man of the house," he explained simply.

Jo and Ruby rolled their eyes, then followed Dean inside.

"Let's dive into this heads first," Ruby began. "How about I wait outside, and any heads you find on the second floor, you throw them out to me? . . . Get it . . . heads first?"

"Yeah, you slay me," Dean said monotonously. "Come on, Jo."

Jo obediently trotted after Dean up the stairs and began gather dismembered domes, scooping them up in her arms.

"Does this seem a bit cryptic to you?" she asked as she grabbed one by the hair.

"Extremely," he replied, closing the lids on a brunette so she would stop eyeballing him. When he had all he could comfortably carry, he gestured his head to the right. "Come on, there's a front window this way."

Dean, with his arms full, nudged at a door to a bedroom, which was kind of showy in a vampire household. There was a window on the far wall, painted black. Dean was clumsily able to push it open, and there was Ruby below them, hands on her hips, looking impatient.

"Bombs away!" Dean called to her, and he unloaded part of his bundle toward her.

"Hey!" she exclaimed as heads fell about her, scrambling to catch as many as she could. "Only a few at a time, idiot! I'm supposed to carry these things to a ditch."

"And where did you find a ditch?"

"The vamps hide their drained victims inside of them. There's plenty out back. That's why this place smells worse than your car does."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Call up when you wants more heads."

"Sure thing," she said, gathering heads off the ground. Dean slid to a sitting position on the wall beside the window, laying the rest of his hands on the ground. At Jo's confused expression, he said, "Might as well just wait for her call."

Jo shrugged acceptingly and sat down across from him, letting her heads rest around her and letting her own thump against the wall as she slid her eyes closed. She suddenly realized how tired she was.

"Hunting's hard," she noted.

"Yup," Dean agreed.

"But I like it."

"Me, too," Dean concurred. "Life-saving doesn't seem to be getting old."

"Speaking of," Jo raised her head and opened her eyes, "thanks for saving mine."

"Don't mention it."

"No, seriously," Jo continued. "You didn't have to do that. I told you not to. I mean, you expressed how much you didn't care about my life."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe that was exaggerated."

"What do you—"

"Hey! New heads down here!" Ruby called from below.

Jo picked up three heads, one at a time, and rocketed them out the window.

"Nice arm," she heard. "I'm guessing that was Jo."

"You know it," Jo called back.

She turned her attention back to Dean. "Now, what do you mean 'exaggerated?'"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," he hardened.

"Do you . . . do you not hate me anymore?" Jo pressed.

"What do you care?"

"This kind of relates to me directly, Dean."

"Drop it," he snapped.

" _Dean_ . . ."

"Okay, look," he began. "When I said I didn't care if you lived or died, I meant it. At least, I was pretty freaking sure I did. I don't know what it was. Something compelled me to un-damsel-in-distress you before you got killed."

"Hey, I un-damsel-ed you, too," Jo pointed out.

"Maybe that was it," he shrugged. "Maybe I felt like I owed you. Seeing you hunt again . . . I mean, it brought back memories. And not the ones that make me want to rip out your prostate."

"Women . . . don't have . . ."

"I remembering liking you back when we hunted together," he cut her off. "We had some good times, you and me. I don't know why I just remembered that now . . ."

"Those memories were repressed," she told him, "and the bad times were emphasized instead, remember?"

Dean shrugged.

" _Heads, please_!"

Dean pelted some of his to Ruby, then leaned back against the wall.

"You know, I don't hate you," Jo began.

"How could you? I'm a charmer."

Jo smiled, looking down at one of her heads to try and conceal it. "I don't hate you, Dean, but I could if I wanted it. You weren't Mr. Nice Guy to me one-hundred percent of the time."

"Not like you didn't deserve that . . ." he said, but he said it with less spiteful zeal then before, which made Jo's smile broaden. She pursed her lips together for further concealment.

They went through a serious of making and avoiding eye contact until Ruby called for a new batch.

"For what it's worth," Jo began after throwing some heads out, "I still don't hate you. I don't know if I ever could."

Dean's gaze flipped up and met hers, but this time, he held it. "Can't say the same for you, sweetheart."

"And that hurts!" Jo snapped at him. "Do you know how much I've done for you?"

"Refresh my memory."

" _Die_ ," she pronounced pointedly.

"You didn't die, obviously."

"Well, I came pretty close," she crossed her arms.

"That wasn't for me. That was for the mission."

"If we didn't explode that place, those things probably would've clawed you up, too. There goes you guys and the mission. Thanks for the gratitude."

Dean seemed to legitimately think about this, as if considering this for the first time. Jo waited patiently for the breakthrough, the moment where Dean would realize that she was something worth liking and maybe they could run into each other arms and share a lovely, Nicholas Sparks type of reunion.

His eyes seemed to search the ground, as if the answer would be there among the discarded vampire craniums. Jo had time to get her hopes up, to take the twinkle in Dean's eye as realization, or at least progress.

Jo was almost sure she saw it. There seemed to be something there that got past the negativity that the mystery monster coated his memories of her with. She was waited eagerly for him to vocalize.

Dean looked up and made eye contact with her . . .

Just as Ruby cut in with a hefty shout of, " _Give me liberty, or give me heads_."


	8. Overcoming Odium

Sam returned to pick up the crew, another case solved and done with and vamps properly thrown into ditches. They loaded all the mega-evil sorcery stuff into the trunk, then Dean promptly shooed Sam out of the driver's seat, lamented his blood-stained seats, and sat himself down, only adding more blood. Sam, Jo, and Ruby did similarly, getting blood on their own respective seats.

No one spoke to each other except for Ruby giving Dean a hard time.

When they arrived home, Bobby was waiting for them with a book in his lap.

"You're getting your bloody footprints all over my floors!" Bobby exclaimed.

"Jealous?" Dean asked.

Bobby glared. "If we're done making fun of the cripple, I have some news." He wheeled around in his chair and led the group to his desk, plopping his book onto it with a _thunk_.

"I've been doing research on the conditions we're under here," Bobby explained. "It looks like Ruby's right. Something's messing with us."

"And you questioned me?" Ruby feigned offense, sitting on the corner of the desk.

"What is it?" Dean asked, ignoring her.

"It looks like an Odi," he revealed. "There isn't much about it in the books, but from what I gather, it's game is hatred."

"Wow. Genius," Ruby droned.

"Would you let me finish? Odis get their kicks adding contempt or hatred to relationships. They thrive on the chaos they cause. They eat, like normal people, but they thrive off chaos."

"Do they just go around with a syringe full of hatred?" Sam asked.

"They mess around in your head," Bobby clarified. "You have the same memories, but some of them you start remembering more than others and you might look at them with a new negativity."

"How do they feed?" Jo asked.

"Huh?"

"The Odi. How is she thriving off our internal conflict?"

"She?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah, it was in the form of a woman. The Odi that showed up to me."

"So they take human form?" Bobby asked. "Geez, you could've revealed that before I did all the research."

Jo gave him a pointed look.

"Sorry," Bobby apologized. Knowing he was under the influence of something else, he didn't want to be a victim to it. Also, he was nice when he tried to be. "Anyway, I'm not sure how exactly an Odi feeds. What I do gather is that it's supposed to be close by to its victims, both those infected with the hate and the original victim. It feeds off their feelings of isolation, too."

"Wait, so it could be feeding on all of us?" Dean asked. "And we're all hoped up here together, just waiting to be eaten?"

"I'm don't think it actually _eats_ us—"

"Geez, Ruby!" Dean suddenly turned to her. "Dandy idea holing us all up here together. We're a freaking buffet!"

"It was still a good idea, Dean," Ruby said through her teeth. "We can protect each other since we're all here."

"Don't defend yourself, blondie. You've made us targets. This was probably your plan all along!"

"Dean," Sam cut in, "I don't think—"

"Hey!" Ruby interrupted, yelling at Dean. "I'm actually working inconveniently hard trying to protect you people. Would some appreciation hurt?"

"Yes, actually. It would probably kill us."

"You are such a—"

"Hey, people!" Jo cut in loudly. They all turned to face her. "Is this really a big deal?"

"The fact that Ruby stuck a monster on our backs that could be watching us right now?" Dean asked.

"Does it matter?" Jo continued. "I mean, if it's true, and it's been feeding at our feelings the whole time, we can handle that. We've handled worse. Now that we know for sure that the hate is planted, couldn't you guys just . . . stop? Or at least try?"

No one answered, which was disappointing.

Jo walked up to Bobby. "You're already being nicer to me," she pointed out. She turned to Sam. "During the hunt, you cared whether or not I died." Finally, to Dean, she said, "And you . . . well, you know."

Dean looked away from her as he recalled saving her life.

"Do I get bonus points for being nice the whole time?" Ruby lifted a finger.

"Sure," Jo conceded.

" _Yes_ ," she fistpumped.

"Guys, I care about all of you and I never want to hurt you," Jo announced to everyone. "Can you think about that instead of whatever is going through your mind about me right now, and then we can get on with our lives?"

Her gaze swept over the boys as she waited for a reply.

Bobby responded first. "Sounds like a plan," he shrugged. "With a mother like yours, you can't be all bad, can you?"

"I agree," Sam smirked. "I mean, you've proved yourself enough. We can get past this."

They turned to Dean, who cringed under the group's stares.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he answered hastily. "We should probably still kill it, though."

Jo raised an eyebrow. The rest of the group frowned with her.

"The _Odi_!" he clarified, "not Jo, people!"

Jo sighed, smiling, and she thought she saw Dean smirk back at her for a second.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Dean straightened up and rolled his shoulders, "I'd like to get some shut-eye. I've been awake for about thirty-six hours."

Most of the rest of the group agreed heartily.

"Actually, boys and girls," Bobby reacted, "we only have two beds and a couch around these parts."

"We've got plenty of floor, though," Dean pointed out. "Bobby takes one bedroom because he's old and we should be nice to him, Sam takes the couch, Ruby and Jo share one because their girls and they can do that without feeling weird, and I take the floor somewhere or another."

Jo smiled to herself and at Dean's progress. He let her have a bed instead of the floor. How gentlemanly.

* * *

Soon enough, their sleeping arrangement was spread out. Jo took the bed and Ruby just sat on floor beside it, concealed from view from doorway so anyone who passed by wouldn't see her.

"I don't sleep much," she confessed to Jo when she questioned it, reminding her that she might not be human, and the Ruby was ashamed of it.

Jo didn't think about it much. She was too tired. In the seconds before she went under, her thoughts were happy. Today was definitely a step in the right direction. Maybe, soon, she could actually pick up things we're she left off with her friends, with Dean.

She'd been asleep for what felt like a few minutes when she heard the door to the room creak open. Light flooded into her room and fell across her face.

She moaned in protest, shutting her eyes tighter and pulling up the covers.

She heard footsteps creaking up toward her. They became louder, closer, then paused when she felt like they were near her.

Jo's eyes fluttered open as she prepared to file her complaint against whoever had awaken her.

It was Dean. He was standing over.

With a knife poised above her body, ready to strike. To kill.


	9. Hate Crime

Dean was lying on the floor as comfortably as he could when it happened.

There he was, nuzzled into some old blankets attempting to cushion the wooden ground. Just before it set on, he was actually thinking positively about Jo. For example,  _Jo looked really good in those jeans,_ or  _Jo saved my life today,_  or even,  _We kissed the other day, didn't we? It was actually kind of nice._

But then, something shot through his stomach, burning and painful.

Hot, fiery hatred ran through him, fierce and fresh. Suddenly, every memory of Jo Harvelle was something he'd rather forget, something he'd rather burn out of his mind, mistakes he'd rather fix.

He recalled earlier that day, in the afternoon, he'd started to like Jo again, feel that naïve bond toward her that he used to. It was foolish. Jo didn't matter to him. Jo was a waste of space, a fact he only recalled now for whatever reason.

The hatred in him was so intense, that only one option stood out to him or made any sense at all.

He had to kill Jo.

* * *

Jo could've taken him. Really, she could have, even as she was unarmed and Dean had what appeared to be a very dangerous-looking knife. However, she had a false sense of security going on, and she was quite groggy, so she barely had the presence of mind to do anything but watch the knife come down toward her.

And, for the third time that week, she accepted the fact that she would die. It was becoming a regular thing for her.

But as she cringed away from the blade, still trying to force her tiredness away so maybe she had a chance, a hand caught the attacker by the wrist.

Jo tried furiously to blink away her grogginess to focus on what was happening.

It was Ruby who'd caught Dean's hand before it struck her, throwing herself onto the bed to grip the falling hand.

_I don't sleep much,_ Jo recalled. Ruby didn't have any grogginess to fend off right now.

But now they both had Dean.

Dean wrenched his hand away, and the fight began.

Ruby climbed over the bed, an obstacle separating her from him. Dean held the knife at the ready as she approached, then steadied himself as he anticipated attack.

Ruby lifted her foot and it slammed into Dean's chest. He  _oof_ ed, but regained composure quickly and charged Ruby with his weapon. She caught his wrist again, but this time, Dean kept pushing. Ruby ended up trying to force him away with both hands.

"This isn't about you," Dean grunted as they struggled. "Let me at Jo."

"Sorry, partner," Ruby replied, and her tone barely implied that her life was at risk, besides the slight breathlessness of it, "we haven't even painted each other's toenails yet."

At this point, Jo was back in business. She threw off her blankets and came to aid Ruby in restraining Dean. She took Dean by the shoulders and kneed him in the stomach. He grunted, and his hand flew down to his abdomen. Jo quickly snatched his arm as Ruby grabbed his other, the one with the knife, and straightened them out. Having seized his arms, they charged the wall together and held him there as he kicked and squirmed.

It took the both of them sweating and straining, but they were able to hold him.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Ruby snarled into his face. "I thought you and Peace Prize's relationships were progressing smoothly."

"No," he snapped defensively, refusing to make eye contact with Jo, "I hate her."

Ruby and Jo exchanged confused looks.

"He seemed okay with me yesterday," Jo told her, still wrestling Dean's arm. "Do you think he was faking so he could come in for the kill?"

"He's not that good of an actor," Ruby shook her head. "He must have been shot with a new dose of Odi hate."

"They can do that?" Jo exclaimed. "I didn't make any new deals, though!"

"Maybe you only have to make one deal, and then the thing can interfere with your relationships for the rest of your life," Ruby suggested. "Maybe Bobby can—hey, wait." Ruby took a long look at the weapon in Dean's hand. "Is that  _my knife_?"

Suddenly, the door to the bedroom burst open and Sam's hulking figure stood there, fuming.

"I guess the Odi dosed all of them," Jo said dejectedly.

"I can't believe you!  _You took my knife_!" Ruby continued, apparently upset.

"Handle Dean, will you?" Jo requested.

"I get Sam!" Ruby demanded. She looked at Jo and explained, "He was supposed to give me my knife back."

Jo didn't question Ruby's attachment to the weapon. She busied herself with continuing to restrain Dean as she prepared articulate explanation as to why it was unreasonable that her hate her.

However, restraining Dean as a one-woman team was nearly impossible, and when Dean able to kick her away from him and regain fighting stance, they ended up in hand-to-hand combat again.

"Dean!" Jo cried as she dodged a swing of the knife. "Listen to me! What you're feeling isn't real."

"Sure feels real," he argued, stabbing uncomfortably close to Jo's ear.

"Okay, maybe it is real," she admitted as she dodged, "but it's planted. These are conclusions you didn't come to, Dean. A load of negativity dumped into your memories of me."

To Dean, everything being said by the women he hated was pointless and annoying and should be silenced immediately. No use making sense of them. They didn't matter.

Which, considering Jo's points, made sense.

Dean paused. "Why should I believe you?"

"We had a conversation hours ago with Bobby, Dean!" Jo was speaking urgently. She hoped Dean could still understand her. "Odi. They're doing this to you. We've gone over this, Dean. It's tedious at this point."

Dean swung the knife at her a little mechanically, ruled by his emotions. In retaliation, Jo bent her arm and rammed into Dean's throat, pushing him back pinning him to the wall again. This time, he dropped the knife, which was reassuring.

"Listen to me," Jo pressed after she kicked the knife away. "We just went over this, Dean. Jeesh, we just had a freaking moment. Look at my fighting skills, Dean. Hunting prowess ringing any bells? I'm a hunter and you like me, got it?"

Dean just glared at her. What a terribly closed mind he possessed. He took hold of Jo's waist and prepared to thrust her away from him, get a clear shot back at the knife.

" _Dean_ ,  _stop_!" a voice called from behind Jo.

Jo, not removing her arm from Dean's neck, turned her neck. Sam was on his back with Ruby straddling his stomach, the gun he'd toted to the room flung aside. Ruby breathed heavily, which was expected, since restraining such a large person probably took a superb amount of effort on her part.

"Dean, I think Jo's telling the truth."

Of course, Jo thought. This process would probably work better. Ruby would talk sense into Sam, and Sam was just about the only person hard-headed Dean would accept any sense from.

"Did  _she_ tell you that?" Dean accused.

"Have you noticed I'm on a streak of being right, Dean?" Ruby panted. "At some point, you could start believing me."

"Please, Dean," Jo pleaded, turning back to him. "Come on, you  _know_ me. You have no plausible reason to hate me."

"You held a rifle at my—"

"At your back, I know. You've tried that before. Would you hate Sam if he did that?"

_I can't believe I didn't think of this before_ , Jo cheered in her mind. The brother card was almost surefire. Sam and Dean were close, kind of unhealthily close. They'd fight harder and they'd forgive harder.

"No, of course not, but he's  _Sam_."

"Yeah," Jo agreed, "and I was a bartender you'd never met. If a stranger did that, would you hate them?"

" . . . I suppose not."

"Dean, Ruby told me," Sam explained. "It's the Odi talking, not us."

"Dean, please," Jo pleaded, looking him in the eyes. "Come on."

Dean held the gaze for a long while. Jo tried to read the expression. He looked conflicted.

But eventually, he dropped his hands from Jo's waist. She'd forgotten they were there.

" _Victory_!" Ruby cheered, throwing her arms in the air. "Well, there's still Bobby, but we could probably just tip his wheelchair over if he charged you."

Jo lowered her arm from Dean's neck, and both their bodies sagged with fatigue.

"I . . ." Dean panted, gazing at Jo, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Jo waved him off and she stumbled back to the bed. "I'd probably have done the same."

"I thought you said you could never hate me," Dean pointed out slightly facetiously.

"I believe I said I didn't  _think_ I could ever hate you or something," she corrected as she collapsed onto the mattress.

"Well, I'm really sorry," Dean repeated.

"Me, too," Sam said as he got to a sitting position.

"Forgiven," Jo assured them, "but please try not to kill me in the morning."

"Now," Ruby began, lifting her leg off of Sam, "can we talk about why you conniving thieves still have my knife?"


End file.
